The next day, Garvin stood at attention within an elegant, sprawling garden, feeling out of place in the pristine surroundings.He had not expected his job to start like this; usually, they would start and end in the same place, in a back alley with the stench of urine and a job to dispose of; sometimes, if he was lucky, he just had to beat some people to convince them to pay back what they owed from loansharks, or in the worst case, dealing with the aftermath of a beating gone wrong.
Currently, he was lined up alongside thirty other men, each outfitted in full armor. Their chainmail glinted beneath solid breastplates, steel helmets casting shadows over hardened faces, and polished cuirasses and greaves covering their legs with an imposing gleam.
Apparently our job isn't a discreet one, Garvin realized, as no employer would be so stupid as to make their hired man look so much eye-catching unless he had wanted them to be so.